Best Faintly Poems
Laying in the morning twilight, yawning, my head nods down and I jerk it up again,
The barbed wire faintly twitches, someone has touched it, will it be a friend or foe,
Shadows float across a near dark landscape then fade away into nothing, an early start,
Machine guns begin rip the earth, and rips the last turf, then rips all the shadows away.
I've had enough and more, I have stopped talking to anyone, I just cannot be bothered,
The daylight makes me angry and people talk to me, I just stare way over their heads,
Some think me strange I don't bloody care, just leave me alone, get on with your day,
Don't comfort me, keep away, let me fight my own darkened demons in my confused mind.
Sudden sharp cracking noises and an odour, a stench of gunpowder, a sour smell of bitter death,
Head pointing directly forwards having no eye contact with anybody, just in case they want to talk,
I sit on mud soaked ground and someone shouts something at me so loudly and I just ignore him,
An N.C.O. running, splashes his way towards me, shouting, swearing and screaming I take no notice.
He pulls me up off the wet ground shouting abuse, why? but I can no longer understand him,
He lets go of my soaked lapels and I sink back down to where I was, his face an angry red,
I hear the word insubordination and that makes me laugh wildly out loud, it makes me stand up,
Then I decide to climb the ladder and walk onto 'no mans land', again the barbed wire faintly twitches.
Soaked eye dish-dog, working in the morning
Hopping on the bus, now get some sleep
Music was a woman, her men she’s grinding
Get to bottom of that basement leak
Post you a smile, flaunting dress
All my friends are looking you up
Said, I’d be here but not for long
I’m grinning, faintly so
Got savings from a joke, he made me run down for it
Told me, “Don’t be misunderstood
There’s only one fib in every story boy
That there’s ever an end.”
What face she wearing? What face you need, Boy?
It isn’t wheels, watering holes or that way she walks
Pacing up the shop aisle, for that Christmas toy
Running down the lanes, like strung out strays
In the bath, staring at the window, listen out
Nothing in the tune of a silent Summer night
She came through the door, didn’t even knock
Something in that, I’m dim, she’s right
I felt worse then, pen in the ink pot
Rusting in black cement
Should have got ready, should have got better
Should have maybe listened to every lecture
You mentioned there’s a man in every coward
I fought that red-haired wolf by the roadside
Playing dead in the gutter, never again
Next time take your own bullet baby
Bicycling away you never told me anything
We go a mile, how we’re blessed
All your friends shook me down
Take my money, honey, always it’s free
They’re all smiling, faintly so
I saw the photo, days after ours days
Knew by that, the silly little tip of the hat
Stole my best idea, took it to the world
I say the show was boring, the tickets steep
Put up with the Gods, all the howling children
See you in the dollar bin by the checkout darling
But if you’re not on the double, just maybe then
Don’t pick up the phone, call by my bathroom window
It’s the only way your getting in now
I’ll here your music from the lane ways
Might just lean over and slide it shut
I’ll be smiling then, so faintly so
High
Sigh
Bye
Choice
Poise
Noise
Nook
Look
Book
Blind
Sign
Find
Sway
Play
Slay
Hum
Sum
Come
Ploy
Toy
Joy
Quaint
Saint
Faint
Glow
Flow
Show
Fun
Run
Pun
Lines
Mine
Fine
Teach
Each
Reach
Be
See
Free
Leon Enriquez
25 February 2016
Singapore
Listen to nature as she sings a tune…
Of the mournful cry of a passing loon
Of a croaking frog in a soggy bog
Of splashing turtles falling off a log
Of the sound of leaves rustling in a breeze
Of fruit as it thuds when it falls from trees
Of rushing brooks racing towards waterfalls
You should hear all of these when nature calls
Her symphony heard since the dawn of time
She dictates the rhythm, dictates the rhyme
But man, in his greed has stifled her voice
Some took the wrong path when given a choice.
Forests are thinning, and waters run dry
Her voice faintly heard, and we wonder why!
I tell the world of you,
Your smile and your glow.
The fondest embrace you gave
Made a mask full of lies fall off,
And gave tears to a dry set of eyes.
I say, “Nevermore, will I plead
For a burgundy hue to cover me.
Nevermore will my hand scrape for dust.
Nevermore will pain be inflicted
In my beating heart," I say.
But, a sound of silence
Eyes that stares at each other
With interests and fondness,
A gesture of friendship so pure
And a conversation of anything,
Broke past my iron walls.
So beautiful, the eyes and lips.
So beautiful the smile, such bliss
It makes a darkened sky weep with light.
But oh, not mine, not mine
Never ever might be mine,
Never ever could be mine.
Say, should words confess
Its true desires, its long yearning,
Will it happen that your ears would listen?
Will your eyes look at mine,
In the same way mine looks at yours?
Will I ever get a chance,
Or will I just look at you,
Forever smiling faintly?
In tumults of time and forgetfulness, in the hidden frenzy of a heart beating faintly,
Invoke the unseen magic, unravel silk works in the deep night,
Tame as a magus who dares, let fall veils of silence,
Breathe into the heavy air movements of shade, cloak thoughts with your watchful anticipation.
In the pale light that wards off unannounced storms, in the echoes of the chamber where echo is the sole presence,
Breathe with a grace that belongs to the weavings of dream, release dreams with each syllable,
Present the metanoia of the time steed, to crash into stone walls, to sing the thrill of a falling star,
Flick through your hand compendiums of souls, show me in intervals your flawless unfolding.
In a play of shadows and lights, master the fine art of remembrance,
Prefigure in smiles the fulcrum and temper of alchemy, in doses just enough to breathe poetry into me,
Like a weaver of the soul, forge my paths amidst beliefs and certainties spoken in the murmur of clear water,
Deliver my walls from clays and masks, consecrate battleground with your unpolished sincerity.
Not with illusions that once sparkled, but with the mystery that transverses your gaze, the torch that illuminates my inner darkness,
Weave with an artist's hands our story, with tones and gestures converted into icons,
In the fascination from chronicles of vigil, in the sweet toils of a heart catching the vigor of desire,
Set your noble trap, a stage set for the final act of promise,
Where you, within me, extend wings, initiate me in ceremonies of a new day,
Congeal enchantment, let me taste the morsel of infinity that you remain in words, until the last verse of the night.